


Would You?

by LawrIsNotMocked



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Fluff, Hair Brushing, Javert Lives, Lovers, M/M, Sleep, Valjean admires Javert, Valjean contemplates stuff, Valjean watches Javert sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 05:59:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12834792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LawrIsNotMocked/pseuds/LawrIsNotMocked
Summary: Javert sleeps, Valjean watches him.  Valjean adores this man.





	Would You?

**Author's Note:**

> This is only my 3rd fic, so please don't judge me too harshly, haha. But for real, if you have any comments or suggestions, please feel free to leave them! :)

Jean Valjean awoke one Saturday morning at the light streamed that in through the curtains of his bedroom. The window was slightly opened, which allowed for a mild spring breeze to waft in. It was later than usual, but he didn’t have many plans for the day, so he didn’t mind sleeping in a bit. He turned to look at Javert, who was (also surprisingly) still asleep. He didn’t want to wake him up either, since he also had nowhere to be today; better to let him sleep for once. The poor man was always so busy and active with work, he rarely seemed to get enough sleep.

Valjean watched the sunlight glint off the auburn streaks of Javert’s hair. Entranced, he ran his hand along the long, straight strands, admiring the smoothness and softness. He ran his fingers through more, and eventually was gently stroking the inspector’s head while he slept. He smiled, but suddenly noticed that Javert had an eye open. Valjean startled slightly, but then realized the man’s breathing remained calm and slow…. he was still asleep! He looked closer at that pale eye, and saw that it was moving slightly. Of course he would literally sleep with one eye open. Of course. Valjean had to stifle a small laugh. 

As he continued to gently stroke his lover’s beautiful hair and tried to forget the eye that seemed to watch him, he let his own eyes wander over the rest of the sleeping man. His face was unusually calm and displayed fewer wrinkles during his peaceful slumber than it did in waking hours. Valjean loved Javert’s strong facial features, but to see them more relaxed was beautiful. The poor man worked too hard, Valjean thought. It was also beautiful to see the man’s usually very rigid posture relaxed as he laid on his side, long legs tucked up slightly and arms bent up near his face. Valjean silently admired Javert’s strong, slender form. He wondered how he was lucky enough to have such a handsome man at his side, sharing this peaceful life together with him. He sighed, slightly audible, and the wind mimicked him, rustling the curtains.

Valjean also wondered how no one had ever loved Javert before. He supposed it should be obvious, but it was still hard to believe. Javert was such a quiet, serious man at work. He wasn’t unkind, but he was strict and driven by his work. Valjean supposed the inspector had never had time (or made time) previously for a companion, and no one seemed to want him to. If only everyone could know just how sweet he truly was outside of work. He was quiet and contemplative, but his voice could be so soft and gentle. His actions were genuine and filled with such a loving grace. Javert was generous and kind at home. On rare occasions, he would make a joke with his dry sense of humor, or be slightly playful, and it filled Valjean with such joy to see the stoic inspector act in such a fashion. Still, he didn’t understand how a man who had never been loved could be so good at loving someone else. Usually those who are never shown what love is cannot fathom it, cannot express it themselves. They continue this cold cycle because they don’t know how to love. Javert was different. Valjean contemplated whether Javert had studied others who expressed love, and learned it that way, or if somehow he’d studied it in books. In truth, Javert had just simply suddenly felt that way and had it come naturally to him when his life was saved by Valjean that night at the bridge. It started off as gratitude, then very quickly worked its way into pure, unrelenting love. It was a common troubling thought that ran through Javert’s head that he could never be able to repay Valjean for that night. And in truth, Valjean never expected repayment.

As his mind wandered, Valjean still absentmindedly stroking Javert’s hair, Javert finally awoke and slowly stretched, offering Valjean a slight smile when he realized the inspector was awake. It made Valjean’s heart melt to see those sparkling pale eyes looking at him so serenely, and that small smile…!

“How long have you been awake?” Javert asked sleepily.

“Not very long.”

“Mm.”

After slipping out of bed, Javert dressed in a cotton button-up shirt, khaki pants, and pulled out of his wardrobe a pale slate blue jacket. Valjean watched in fascination of his casual elegance. Javert noticed, and knowing it was one of Valjean’s favorite things to do, offered him a hair brush and royal blue satin ribbon with another gentle smile.

“Would you?”


End file.
